


fourty-two

by thughyung



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, also they platonically smooch once, lapslock, talk of suicide/death/depression, theyre both sad okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 16:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thughyung/pseuds/thughyung
Summary: chan comes home late and finds jisung contemplating his existence. he doesn't hesitate to comfort him.





	fourty-two

**Author's Note:**

> this is sad and i was sad when i wrote it but hey at least there's some actual good advice in there

chan barely hears it.

it’s probably nearing four in the morning, it has to be, but right now, chan has a migraine forming and the brightness of his phone even on the lowest possible setting is still too much, so he decides not to bother checking. the dorm is dark save for a small lamp in the kitchen that shines Just Enough through the conjoined space for chan to navigate without running into anything.

when he hears it first, he almost thinks it’s the room settling under his weight. moving toward his room however, the sound becomes clearer. and hot panic shoots down his body, burning his toes, when he realizes it’s sniffling. immediately, he turns around and shuffles in sock clad feet to the sofa, where a figure is curled up in one of the furry blankets changbin’s mom had given them for christmas.

“hey..” chan whispers.

“leave me alone.” it’s jisung, his voice is hoarse and chan can hear how congested he sounds.

he gets it, really. he has had his own fair share of moments where all he needed was time alone to cry. the middle of the night was sometimes the only privacy you could get.

chan doesn’t respond, but doesn’t leave either. he sits down on the edge of the couch and rubs soothingly at jisung’s knee. the younger boy hiccups and it’s obvious he’s holding back a particularly hefty sob.

“jisung…” chan shifts slightly and that must have been all it took because jisung’s entire body shakes when he starts to properly cry again. it breaks chan’s heart not only as the leader but as a genuine friend. he’s not sure what to say, doesn’t know if he should say anything, so he nudges at the boy’s side instead and climbs in to lay behind him. jisung moves to accommodate him and lifts the blanket for chan to scoot closer. jisung would never decline cuddles. it’s something he’s never been shy about asking for; he openly craves affection.

wrapping his arm around jisung's waist feels natural, _is_ natural, and he rubs soothing circles into his hip with a thumb until jisung’s body stops trembling.

“breathe, jisungie.” chan whispers, nuzzling his nose into the shaggy hair at the nape of jisung’s neck. he smells like cheap cucumber and melon shampoo. jisung takes a deep breath and the exhale rattles his chest. “do you wanna talk about it?”

jisung shakes his head and sniffles, wiping his nose with a horribly wet bunched up wad of toilet paper, “kind of. but not really? i didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“well, if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t see you.”

“you heard me, though. that may be even worse.” jisung sniffles again and rolls over onto his other side so he’s facing chan, thankful that the darkness at least partially hides his puffy eyes and swollen, tear stained cheeks. he feels miserable. he feels pathetic, and useless, and unliked. selfish, annoying, burdensome. as if the world wanted so desperately to replace him, erase him from existence. he hadn’t exactly made a lasting impact on anyone anyway. but he doesn’t tell chan that, doesn’t feel like hearing the _you know better than that_ , or the _you're so important_ and _we love you so much_.

“i can give you some space if you really want me to.” chan says, breath fanning against jisung’s nose. his breath smells like the bitterness of americano, but jisung doesn’t say anything. he finds it kind of comforting.

jisung shakes his head and quietly says, “no. please stay, hyung.” and reaches out to clutch the front of chan’s shirt in his fist, “please don’t go yet.” he hadn’t wanted anyone to find him, talk to him, even look in his direction tonight. but he trusts chan, finds himself snuggling closer and letting the fabric over chan’s chest catch his silent tears.

chan settles to make it known that he isn’t going anywhere, idly pets the hair away from the other’s face.

it’s quiet for a long time while jisung regains his composure enough to speak again.

“hyung?” jisung’s voice is small, pained.

“yeah?”

there's a pause.

“do you ever wanna die?”

chan hums, stroking over jisung’s cheek. “i used to feel like dying all the time. that’s why i wrote 42.”

jisung pauses for a moment, thinking back to the lyrics he’d written for the song, how easy it had been to open up on paper, how good it felt to be able to share feelings and experiences with people who related. he’d felt like dying then, too.

briefly, he considers journaling.

“but i mean, did you ever like… genuinely want to die? the actual skull and crossbones?” jisung feels tears begin to fall again and chan wipes them away as soon as they spill.

“i think i was always more into the concept of not having to suffer anymore, rather than like... ceasing to exist.” chan says, sighing. jisung is surprised he isn’t automatically being lectured. he appreciates it.

chan continues, “sometimes it felt like dying was the easiest fix, ya'know? i wouldn’t bother anyone anymore, i wouldn’t have to deal with stress or growing up, becoming a full fledged adult.“ jisung bites his lip anxiously as chan pauses, because all of that sounds appealing. "but i realized that what i wanted wasn’t to die. i wanted to live. to, like, actually live.”

jisung sniffles unashamedly now, burying his face into chan’s chest again. chan can feel the dampness of tears and snot, but he doesn’t mind.

“i want to live a happy life, hyung. i don’t want to be paranoid and live like this for the rest of my life. i can’t take it. i should be happy, i have you guys, i have our fans, i have our music. i feel like i’m ungrateful for being this way. people have it way worse.”

chan runs his fingers through jisung’s hair and shushes him gently, “you’re not ungrateful because of something you can’t help, jisungie. it isn’t like we choose to be depressed. and just because some people have it worse doesn’t mean what you’re feeling isn’t just as valid.”

jisung shuts his eyes tightly and he can feel the burn of tension in his temples. he just wants to sleep. he knows he’ll feel better in the morning, but he also knows he’ll likely regret talking about it even more. the last thing he wants to do is to be babied because of this or cause more problems.

"i don’t want to die.” jisung finally says, a bit of confidence in his voice, as fake as it may be (if he fakes it enough, maybe his brain will actually start to believe it), “i want to live.”

chan smiles to himself and feels proud, fondness making his cheeks flush. jisung’s much more relaxed in his grasp now as well, and when chan closes the distance between them to give his lips a soft peck, jisung gives him one more.

“thanks, hyung. for just.. everything. really.” jisung says, sleep etching into his words. chan lets his arm fall back to jisung’s waist and yawns. he’d have stayed awake all night with jisung if he had to, but if the opportunity for sleep was there, he surely wouldn’t turn it down.

“get some rest, okay? if you wake up, i’ll be right here.” jisung hums and slides his leg between chan’s to get comfortable.

before he knows it, jisung is fast asleep, limp against him. chan wouldn’t move anywhere for the world. he knows how much he wishes he’d had someone to watch over him back then, and he doesn’t want jisung to ever feel as alone as he himself once did.

**Author's Note:**

> pls leave me comments i am desperate for validation thank you


End file.
